


Charting a New Course

by Julesmonster



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julesmonster/pseuds/Julesmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gibbs is hurt in the line of duty, it causes both he and Tony to rethink everything…including their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> A/N: Okay, so here is a new NCIS fic for my friends. This story has been percolating for a while, but since there aren’t really any spoilers, you can consider it being set loosely somewhere in the last couple seasons. As always, this is SLASH. There will be four parts to the story and I hope you enjoy! Jules

** Charting a New Course **

**by Julesmonster**

 

**Part One**

Tony watched in horror from his position behind a car as the suspect they had been following popped out from behind another vehicle and swung a crowbar. He landed it squarely on the back of an unsuspecting Gibbs' head. He was too far away to stop it and too far away to call out a warning to Gibbs. By the time he was in shooting distance, there was nothing he could do. It felt like everything stopped moving as Gibbs’ body was thrown forward to the pavement and the blood began to pool around him. It couldn’t have been more than a second, however, because the petty officer hadn’t even had time to lift the weapon for his second strike when Tony’s voice called out to him to drop the weapon. The idiot didn’t listen, instead he reached for a pistol in his waistband, and Tony took great satisfaction in placing two rounds in the fucker’s chest.

“Agent down!” Tony shouted into his earwig’s mic and then was on his way to Gibbs’ side.

The minutes that followed were a blur of voices and activity and the paramedic asking him a thousand questions. Tony answered them all and refused to leave Gibbs’ side. Fuck the dead suspect. Fuck the case. Fuck protocol. Gibbs was seriously injured and nothing else mattered. The ride to the hospital was like a nightmare. Gibbs wasn’t responding to anything the paramedics tried. All they could do was keep reviving him when his heart stopped beating and try to minimize the blood loss.

Once at the hospital, there was more rushing around and more voices asking him questions until they finally reached the operating room doors and Tony was left in the suddenly still quiet of the hospital corridor. He stood there for long minutes just staring at the blood on his hands and wondered, not for the first time, why the hell they did it. Between Gibbs and himself, they had more injuries in the line of duty than any other three full teams combined. Why did they just keep coming back for more?  Every time Gibbs was hurt, it was like a part of Tony was being torn in two. And it just got harder every time knowing that each time one of them cheated death, they got closer to that one time when they wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Sir?”

Tony looked at the petite young nurse who addressed him.  “Yeah.”

“Come with me,” she said gently. “I’ll show you a place you can get cleaned up. And I think we might even have a set of scrubs that would fit you. You’ll be more comfortable while you wait for your…”

Tony knew she was waiting for him to fill in that blank but he wasn’t so sure he could. Boss didn’t nearly cover the extent of the relationship between the two agents. Friend was inadequate as well. They weren’t lovers. There was no blood tie between them, so he couldn’t call him family. And yet, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was closer to him than any family Tony had ever seen. He was like the other part of Tony’s soul.

“Partner,” Tony finally settled on. Let her think what she would of that. He held Gibbs’ medical proxy, just as the older man held his. Despite the fact that they had both reconciled with their fathers and established some sort of relationship—more like a truce in the case of the two Anthony DiNozzos—they were still the closest thing to family to each other that they had. Tony trusted Gibbs with his life whether on the field or in a hospital bed and he knew that the feeling was mutual.

Looking back at the nurse, he offered her a halfhearted smile. “Thanks.”

He followed her to the staff locker room for the surgical wing and she found a clean set of scrubs in his size and then left him to shower alone. Tony moved mechanically, trying not to think about the way the water at his feet ran red with Gibbs’ blood as he let the hot water flow over him. He tried not to think about anything but the vision of that man as he swung the crowbar simply would not leave his head. He didn’t even know he was crying until the sobs shook his body enough that he had a hard time standing. Tony slid down the shower wall and let the water continue to wash over him while he cried.

**GDGDGDGDGD**

Tony lost track of time as he stared at the waiting room walls. His mind was running through all the memories he had of him and Gibbs. It wasn’t like a movie, playing in neat little chronological flashbacks. No, this was more like a stream of consciousness thing. He remembered the first time that they met, working that homicide case up in Baltimore, and then flashed to a single look that they had shared over cowboy steaks. Sometimes he relived entire scenes, like the way they had gotten drunk and cursed the world together in Gibbs’ basement the night after Kate’s funeral. Other times, it was just a moment in time, seemingly unimportant at the time, but had stuck in Tony’s head nonetheless, like the brief moment their eyes would meet after a shared joke at Ziva or Tim’s expense.

“DiNozzo.”

Tony knew who had come even before he saw the man and his annoying toothpick. “Director Vance.”

Vance took a seat on a chair two seats from Tony’s. “I expected that as senior agent you would be out there following up on this case.”

Tony shrugged. “The bad guy is dead. Let the others deal with the cleanup. I have other things to do.”

Vance, surprisingly, let that slide. “How’s he doing?”

“They haven’t come out to say yet,” Tony said. He continued to stare at the picture of a sailboat on the opposite wall. “Abby know?”

“She’s cussing up a blue streak because I told her I wanted the evidence catalogued before she came over here. I don’t want there to be any questions about how things were handled after the fact.”

“It was a clean kill,” Tony said tiredly. “Justified. He’d already wounded Gibbs and was reaching for his gun when I fired.”

“I know,” Vance said. “We’ve got the whole thing—audio and video—recorded on the surveillance tapes. You were by the book. And before you beat yourself up too badly, you couldn’t have done anything differently to prevent the attack on Gibbs.”

Tony snorted in disgust. He knew that. It didn’t feel that way, but he knew that he couldn’t have done anything to prevent the fucker from hitting Gibbs. The problem wasn’t that he blamed himself. The problem was he blamed the job.

“I’m putting in for a leave of absence,” Tony said.

Vance was quiet for a moment before he nodded his agreement. “Okay. How long?”

“No idea,” Tony told him. “As long as it takes.”

Again, Tony let the person he was talking to come to his own conclusions. He knew that Vance was probably thinking that he was intending to stay gone while Gibbs was in the hospital, and possibly for a little while after he was released, to care for him. Assuming he survived. But in truth, Tony needed time to consider what the fuck he wanted out of his life. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life chasing after bad guys? He was getting too old for this shit. The only thing that kept him coming back to NCIS was the fact that his colleagues were more like a family to him than anything he had ever had before. And Gibbs.

“I’ll need your statement on the shooting,” Vance said. “And I’ll have the paperwork for the leave sent over for you to sign.”

“Just have Tim bring it when he comes,” Tony said. “He can take my statement then too.”

“You’ll let me know when you hear something?” Vance asked. He knew that his presence was not entirely welcomed by the agent and he would respect his feelings in this instance.

“I’ll call,” Tony said. “Or I’ll make sure someone else does.”

Vance stood up and headed for the door. He paused, however, and looked back at Tony. “He’s a tough bastard.”

“But he’s not invincible,” Tony said. Vance nodded and then disappeared out the door. 

**GDGDGDGDGD**

One by one the rest of the team arrived. Abby was first. She had rushed through processing the evidence and had arrived in a flurry of tears and anxiety.  Tony didn’t really have the wherewithal to cope with her fears on top of his own, so he was glad when Ducky arrived. He was in better shape for comforting the Goth. Tim and Ziva arrived together. They reported that they had processed everything at the scene and had then gone on to process the dead man’s apartment. Tony only half listened to their report. And then he gave his statement to Tim and signed the leave papers that Vance had sent along. McGee had looked at him a little strangely when he handed over the papers, but he hadn’t asked about the leave and Tony didn’t offer anything.

When the doctor finally came out, Tony was the first on his feet. “How is he?”

“Mr. DiNozzo?” the doctor asked and Tony nodded. “Agent Gibbs is out of surgery and is in stable condition. As you know he has suffered a severe traumatic brain injury due to a depressed skull fracture. The damage was extensive, resulting in a subdural hematoma and diffuse axonal injuries. We believe we were able to repair much of the damage; our surgical team was able to relieve the buildup of pressure from the blood around his brain. We also repaired some of the damage done by the initial assault. Unfortunately, anytime you are dealing with a brain injury of this magnitude, it is impossible to tell the long term effects that it will have. The DAI alone often presents in unpredictable ways. He may wake up from surgery with nothing more than a headache. That is unlikely, however.”

“What _is_ likely?” Tony asked.

“The occipital lobe and the cerebellum, the areas of the brain that was most affected by the initial injury, control many important functions,” the neurosurgeon said. “It could impair his ability to communicate. It could leave him blind. It could affect his motor skills. It could affect his ability to think or reason or his emotional control. We can make guesses based upon our scans and tests, but the truth is we simply won’t know until he wakes up.”

“But he will wake up?” Abby asked.

“I believe so,” the doctor told her with a sympathetic smile. “There is a good chance, in cases such as this where the head trauma is so extensive, that he could slip into a coma. But, having said that, Agent Gibbs actually awoke twice during the surgery. It’s a good sign.”

He looked around the room filled with people and said, “Agent Gibbs is in recovery right now, but we will be moving him to the ICU in just a short while. I’m afraid only Mr. DiNozzo, as his legal next of kin, will be allowed to sit with him, but you will each be given the opportunity to have a short visit once we have him settled. I’m going to limit visits to five minutes per person, and only once every three hours. Mr. DiNozzo, I’ll have a nurse come get you once he’s been transferred.”

The doctor left after that and everyone was subdued. Tony retook his seat and waited for the nurse. Tony could hear the others talking in hushed voices, but he wasn’t concerned with whatever it was they were saying. He was too busy thinking about the fact that Gibbs could be facing some seriously life-altering impairments as a result of this injury. Unable to communicate, blind, unable to walk properly, unable to think properly… He wondered how Gibbs would cope if any of that was the case. Gibbs was such a fiercely independent and strong person. How would he react if he had to rely upon others for the rest of his life?

“Why did he say that Gibbs woke up during surgery?” Tony asked Ducky, interrupting the hushed conversation.

“Any time they perform neurosurgery, it is preferred to have the patient awake and alert so that they can gauge their response to certain direct stimuli,” Ducky explained. “They use a local anesthetic rather than putting the patient under general anesthesia. It is quite common for the surgeons to have conversations with their patients through an entire procedure.”

Tony nodded and went back to brooding. He ignored the worried looks the others were shooting him. He knew that he was behaving out of character. He knew that they expected him to be more talkative, more supportive, as he usually was during a crisis. He knew that they had expected him to take charge of the investigation and worry about Gibbs after it was done. He knew that they were concerned for him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to reassure them.

When the nurse finally came to take him to the ICU, Tony was relieved to leave them behind.

“I’ll stop by your place and bring a change of clothes,” Abby said.

Tony paused in the doorway. His place. “My stuff is at Gibbs’. In the spare room. My building was condemned a couple months ago and I’ve been staying there.”

The fact that none of them knew such a simple fact about his life seemed irrelevant to Tony in that moment, but they all looked shocked. He wasn’t about to explain so he just followed the nurse down the hall to the bank of elevators. 

**GDGDGDGDGD**

The ICU was like every other ICU that Tony had either visited or occupied himself, so there were no real surprises. And Gibbs looked a lot better this time than he had when he’d been blown up. The only real sign that he had been injured at all was the fact that his head was wrapped in gauze bandages. Gibbs was unconscious when Tony took the seat beside his bed and clasped his hand, but that movement seemed to cause him to stir. 

“Gibbs?” Tony said quietly. Gibbs’ eyes didn’t open, but the fingers on his hand twitched and then tightened slightly around Tony’s. Tony sighed. “You’re going to be alright. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere until you get better. The doctor said that there could be some damage from the injury, but he doesn’t know you like I do. You’ve got the hardest head of any person I’ve ever met or even heard of. It’ll take more than a little bit of steel to do any real damage.” 

Tony sighed again. He knew that talking to an unconscious patient was supposed to benefit the patient, but he was never really sure that it was true. “You know, I put in for a leave. Vance thinks it’s because of you. And maybe it is in part, but mostly it’s because I’m just so sick of waking up in the hospital or watching over you when you are. But I’m not going anywhere.” 

There was another squeeze from Gibbs and Tony wondered if that was just coincidence, or a response of some kind. “Can you hear me, Gibbs?” Another squeeze. Tony’s heart began to beat a little faster. “Can you wake up for me? Just open your eyes?”  There was no response, but Tony thought he saw a slight shift in Gibbs’ face, as though he was struggling to comply with Tony’s request, before his face went lax again. “It’s okay, you can rest for now. I’ve got your six.” 

Gibbs’ hand slackened and Tony was sure that he was asleep once again. He sighed and sat back in his chair to watch Gibbs sleep. 

**GDGDGDGDGD**

The others were allowed to visit, and Tony sat stoically through each five minute period. He accepted the hug that Abby offered and listened as Ducky offered comforting words. He let Ziva watch him warily without comment. He even gave McGee a nod of encouragement when the younger agent looked uncertain about leaving Tony alone again at the end of his visit. He knew that they were worried about Gibbs, and about him. He cared about them and didn’t wish to add to their concerns, but in those hours all Tony could focus on was Gibbs and having him awake and aware once again.

The neurosurgeon came along with a neurologist and they examined Gibbs. Nurses came and went, checking vitals and changing the IV.  Tony sat through it all and when they were left in peace once more he would talk.  The topics varied widely: the cars that Tony liked; the movies that were scheduled to be released that summer; the latest changes in the NCIS handbook; Ohio State’s chances to go to a bowl game that year; and the newest models of handguns.

As the evening slipped into late night, the topics changed, became more personal. Tony spoke of his childhood and his early years as a cop. He told Gibbs about how much it had meant to him to have someone like Gibbs see potential in him and take a chance on him when they first met on that case in Baltimore. He told his friend about his doubts about continuing to do the job that had meant so much to him through the years.

At some point, Tony fell asleep with his head resting on the side of Gibbs’ bed and his hand still holding the other man’s.


	2. Part Two

**Part Two**

Tony startled awake when a shaky hand ran its fingers through his hair. He sat up and looked up to see that Gibbs was awake, though his eyes were out of focus and he didn't seem to be totally aware of what was happening around him.

"Jethro," Tony sighed as he took his hand.

"To-To…ny?" Gibbs said with a slurred voice husky from disuse.

Tony smiled. "Yeah, I'm here. I need to call the nurse and let her know you're awake." Tony pressed the call button. "How you feeling?"

"Nee…T-To…nee?" Gibbs said again and his face was a mask of fear and confusion. "Ca- ca… can't..." He reached weakly out for Tony and Tony grabbed his hand and brought it to his face. Gibbs' palm cupped Tony's cheek before feebly falling back to the bed.

The nurse brought the neurosurgeon and the neurologist with her and Tony was shuffled to the side for a few minutes while they examined Gibbs and did a few tests to check his brain function. The longer they talked to him, however, the more agitated and fearful Gibbs became. By the time Tony was allowed back beside Gibbs, the other man was trembling and his eyes were darting from side to side as if searching for something or someone.

"Nee…To…nee!"

Tony grasped Gibbs' hand and brought it to his face again. "I'm right here, Jethro. And I'm not going anywhere," Tony promised as he lowered their clasped hands back to the bed. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Gibbs' eyes were still fearful, but blinked a few times and slowly drifted back to sleep.

It was only a few minutes later that the doctors called Tony outside the glass cubicle to talk. "We're very concerned with Agent Gibbs' agitation and his responses to our examination. While a degree of confusion and anxiety is expected after an injury such as this, the severity of his reaction does not bode well."

"He was slurring," Tony said. "And he didn't seem able to focus."

The neurologist shared a glance with the other doctor but nodded to Tony. "He appears to be suffering from aphasia, or the inability to recognize and process language. He can't form words to communicate and he cannot understand what we are saying to him. Right now, the only word he recognizes and responds to is your name. Aphasia is a fairly common result of a TBI. In most cases, it is temporary. And even when it's not, speech therapy can correct much of the problem."

"What has us more concerned is his inability to focus and his lack of response to reflex tests," the neurosurgeon said. "We're also watching for seizures and have him on a medication that will hopefully prevent their occurrence."

Tony nodded slowly. "So what does all that mean? I mean, for his long term recovery."

"We can't be sure right now," the neurologist said. "We need to give him a few days to recover from the surgery before we can really do an accurate assessment of his physiological and cognitive abilities. There are no guarantees, but we are hopeful that we'll see some improvement."

"We're impressed with his recuperation otherwise," the other surgeon told him. "Your friends and colleagues will be able to visit him again in ICU today, but I'd like to keep their visits short and limited to one person at a time aside from you."

"One at a time," Tony repeated with a nod. "Is there a phone I can use?"

Tony was shown to the nurses' station where he was able to call NCIS. He called Ducky, figuring the ME would grasp the situation better than any of the others and be able to pass on the information. He also called Jackson. The elder Gibbs had been notified of Gibbs' injury, and was making plans to arrive the next day. Tony wanted to reassure the older man who had been so welcoming to him, but he really couldn't. After hanging up the phone, he made his way back to the ICU room where Gibbs was still sleeping.

The information the doctors gave him was slowly starting to settle in and Tony was reeling. Though the doctors had hope that he would improve, it was pretty obvious that neither of them expected that Gibbs would ever be the way he was before. Would he ever be able to be an active field agent again? Would he ever be able to drive a car or read one of those awful war novels he liked so much? Would he be able to work on the boat? God, Tony hoped so.

**GDGDGDGDGD**

The next 24 hours were filled with necessarily short visits from the team and a couple brief periods of wakefulness on Gibbs' part. Jackson arrived and joined Tony in his vigil. Tony didn't say much to anyone from NCIS about what he knew, but he knew that Ducky had told them because he could see the pitying looks they gave Gibbs when they entered the room. It made Tony angry for some reason he couldn't totally fathom. Gibbs didn't need their pity.

Tony almost lost his temper with Abby when she cried over Gibbs during her visit. Instead, he controlled himself and asked her to follow him into the hall, leaving Jackson with his son for a few minutes. Once there, he insisted that if she wanted to visit that she had better be more positive when she was in the room. She'd looked stricken, but had taken a moment to pull herself together before returning to Gibbs' side. She'd spent the rest of her visit telling a sleeping Gibbs about the nuns' latest bowling tournament.

It wasn't until the next morning that Gibbs really became aware enough to comprehend that things weren't totally okay. Jackson had gone to Gibbs' house for the night at Ducky's insistence, leaving Tony alone when Gibbs awoke. His eyes were darting around again and he was getting agitated. "Nee… To… To-Ton…nee!"

Tony, who had been over by the window, walked back over to the bed and he could tell the minute Gibbs' eyes found him. He smiled at Gibbs in as reassuring a manner as he could muster before taking the other man's hand in his own. "I'm here Jethro."

Gibbs looked relieved and his heart rate settled down to a more normal rhythm. He clutched at Tony's hand and opened his mouth several times, as if he was trying to say something but nothing came out. The more he tried, the more frustrated he became. "Damn…it!"

"It's okay, Jethro," Tony said soothingly. "Calm down, okay? Let me call for the doctor." Gibbs shook his head and then gasped with the pain that caused. "Please, Jethro. I promise, I won't leave the room, but they need to check on you."

Gibbs' hand, which had been gripping Tony's almost painfully, reluctantly loosened. Tony smiled at him again and rang for the nurse. In minutes, the neurologist had come and had gone through the same tests that he had performed the previous day.

"Well that's definitely an improvement," the doctor said with a smile when he was finished. Tony listened to the doctor, but kept his eyes on Jethro, who was watching the two of them in turn. "Agent Gibbs is definitely responding to verbal cues, which means that the aphasia is lessening."

"He was trying to talk, but couldn't," Tony said. "The few words he's gotten out have been disjointed and sometimes the sounds are out of order."

The doctor nodded. "Yes, because the aphasia has decreased, we can begin to gauge some of the effects of the TBI. It's still early, but it seems that speech apraxia is one of those effects. Apraxia, unlike aphasia, is actually not a cognitive impairment; it is a physical one. Agent Gibbs knows what he wants to say but his brain cannot get his mouth to actually say them. When he can speak, he will often swap syllables and stammer. But this is a treatable condition. Speech therapy can help, and in some cases, sign language can be used as a substitute."

"So he's going to get better?" Tony asked.

"Almost certainly," the doctor said. "How much better remains to be seen. I doubt he will ever fully recover his speech as you knew it before."

Tony, who was still watching Gibbs, saw the man frown and turn his face away from them. Tony finished with the doctor quickly, but before he could go back over to Gibbs, the man was asleep.

**GDGDGDGDGD**

The next several days were filled with more tests and MRIs and Gibbs, surly at the best of times, was becoming more and more short-tempered. He became uncooperative with the nurses and technicians when he felt he had done enough. He refused to even try to speak when the neuropsychiatric doctor attempted to examine him. He shot glares at anyone and everyone, including Jackson and Tony. He was, to put it simply, pissed.

Tony tried to be supportive, but he wasn't doing all that great in the patience department. And after two days of silent snark and glowering stares, he'd had more than enough.

"Jethro!" Tony exclaimed after Gibbs threw his dinner tray across the room, barely missing the retreating form of the nurse who had just delivered it. "That's enough!"

"No!" Gibbs shouted, equally furious. "N-not… 'nuff!"

Tony scowled at him. "Well, at least you're talking again."

"Bing… bab… babbling," Gibbs said and there was frustration and fear in those soft spoken words.

"Damn it," Tony sighed as he sat down next to Gibbs' bed. "You aren't babbling. You aren't stupid and no one thinks you are. Yes, you have a speech impairment. Yes, you have some motor control issues. Yes, your reflexes aren't what they used to be. But you're still you. You're still 'second B for bastard, Gibbs. But right now, you're acting like both B's are for bastard. You've made three nurses cry today. Three. That's gotta be a record, even for you."

"F-f-four," Gibbs said quietly, but Tony could see the smirk that wanted to break out.

"Right," Tony said with a crooked grin. "Well, you've got a couple hours left, I'm sure you could beat that if you try hard.

The smile in Gibbs' eyes faded to be replaced with that ever present fear that Tony was beginning to expect and hate. "Mage… dagem… dam…aged."

Tony looked into those ice blue eyes and sighed. "Yeah. You've heard them talking. There's a pretty good chance that you'll have to deal with this for the rest of your life. But what you seem determined to ignore is the fact that they haven't said it will always be this bad. You work at it and it will get better."

He looked at Gibbs and considered him. "You remember when I got shot on the Rainier case? God, my leg hurt like a son of a bitch and therapy just seemed to make everything hurt more. But every time I tried to get out of it, you'd be right there dragging my ass back. Why? Because you said I had to work to get better. Well, this isn't any different. You have to relearn how to do things. The more you work at it, the better you'll get. But snarling and barking at everyone who wants to help you won't accomplish anything."

Gibbs grunted, but didn't turn his face away this time. "No-not easy."

"No, it's not that easy," Tony said. "You've got to relearn a few things. But if you'd been paying attention when the therapist was in today instead of trying to chase her away, you'd know that she thinks you can get back most of your fine motor skills. You're already walking fine."

From his face, Tony could tell that Gibbs knew what he was trying to say. He had been lucky. Things could have been a lot worse than they were. He wasn't cognitively impaired. Any minor impairment that had been present when he first woke had faded after the first couple days. And he was recovering physically better than the doctors had expected of a man his age. He might never have the reflexes he once had, but he would still be able to do woodwork and write and a thousand other things that might have been lost to him if things hadn't gone as well as they had.

Gibbs nodded slowly. "Mm… Ho…me?"

Tony smirked. "Always trying to get out of here, aren't you." Gibbs gave Tony a look and Tony chuckled. "I know, I'm no better. Well, the good news is that the doctors say that since you're doing so well getting around on your own, and since there haven't been any seizures, they think that you'll be able to go home tomorrow. But only if you agree to continue your therapy sessions and go to follow-up exams. Physical therapy once a week and speech therapy three days a week for now. I'm going to down to arrange everything when Jackson gets back from the cafeteria."

Gibbs nodded again, looking satisfied. "Fi-fin…nally."

Tony chuckled. "Five days, Jethro. It's been only five days. Do you remember how long they kept me with the plague? Five days is nothing."

Jackson returned to find the two men smiling and laughing together. It was the first time Gibbs had shown anything but anger since Jackson had arrived and his heart was lightened.

**GDGDGDGDGD**

Tony arranged everything for Jethro's release and the next morning, they were finally able to make the dreaded ride in the wheelchair to the front doors. Gibbs had scowled when Tony had told him to get in, but he had done so. It wasn't worth the energy to try and argue. He would rather just go home. Jackson had stayed at Gibbs' house in order to make lunch for the three of them, so Tony was alone as he helped Gibbs into the car.

"Jackson said he has to head home tomorrow," Tony said as he started the car and pulled away from the curb. "The woman who has been watching the store is leaving on a cruise with her daughter in two days. Since you're doing so much better, I told him he should just head back."

Gibbs grunted. He was using grunts a lot to communicate, and Tony was rather glad he was already so proficient in reading Gibbs' non-verbal communications.

"Yeah, I know," Tony said. "I figured you'd see it that way."

"W-work?" Gibbs asked.

"Me?" Tony said. "I'm on leave. Indefinitely. And no, it isn't just because of you, so don't get your shorts in a knot. I'm just using you as an excuse to take some much needed R&R."

Gibbs grunted again and Tony could hear the disbelief in that sound.

"Okay, so it's not R&R I need," Tony admitted. "I need time and space to think."

"Bou… 'bout?" Gibbs pressed.

"About me and my life," Tony said. "About what I want and what I need to finally find some happiness. About my future and what exactly that looks like."

"H-heavy st-stuff," Gibbs managed to stammer out.

"Yeah," Tony sighed. "I just need time to sort it all out."

Gibbs nodded and let the subject go. The rest of the drive was spent discussing how much Gibbs had left to do before the boat was finished.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three**

Jackson went home, but not before giving Tony strict instructions to take care of his boy. Though Tony would have done so anyway, he welcomed the directive for the trust that showed Jackson had in him, and returned the long hug from the elder Gibbs. Jackson had become more of a father to him than Senior had ever been.

Over the next weeks, Tony took Gibbs to his appointments and often watched Gibbs work on the boat. After the boat was moved out of the basement (while Tony was out running errands for the day, much to his amused frustration) Tony drove Gibbs to the marina where he was doing the final work to get the boat seaworthy, including putting the mast and rudder in place.

When not chauffeuring Gibbs around, Tony spent time reading and researching online. Since moving in with Gibbs, Tony had slowly but surely gotten the man into the current century. Or he had at least gotten the house up to date. They now had cable and a decent television, and even had Wi-Fi so Tony could use his laptop anywhere in the house, including the basement stairs.

Physically, Gibbs was much better. He had even begun going with Tony for his morning run again after two weeks. What were not improving were his reflexes. He could not react with the same speed as before. There were multiple times when Tony had to pull Gibbs aside on their run to keep him from getting hurt by a car or bicyclist. His brain simply took too long to react and the doctors didn't hold out hope that it would ever improve. Not only was he banned from field work as a result, but he couldn't drive either. It made for a very angry and resentful Gibbs for a few days while the news really sank in.

Gibbs' speech therapy was working wonders. He still had to stop and think about what he said, but the aphasia was completely gone and the apraxia was manageable. Six weeks after being released from the hospital, the therapist said she had done all she could for Gibbs and he was released from her care. Gibbs still got frustrated at times, but if you didn't know him before the injury, you wouldn't be able to tell that he had any difficulty at all. His speech was slower and more deliberate, but it was clear and had a steady flow now.

Tony and Gibbs went into NCIS the day after he was finally released from both the doctor's and therapist's care to meet with Vance. The director offered Gibbs a position behind a desk, which Gibbs turned down rather promptly.

"If I wanted to sit behind a desk," Gibbs said unhurriedly. "I would have had your job by now."

Vance smirked at him but nodded. "I'll fill out the paperwork for retirement. What about you, DiNozzo? When am I going to see you back here?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't know."

Vance frowned. "I can't keep you on extended leave forever. You've still got some vacation time left, but it won't last forever."

"Not planning on taking forever," Tony said. "Just need a few more months, with or without vacation pay."

Vance's eyes narrowed. "This isn't about Gibbs, then."

Tony shook his head. "No. It's about me figuring out if I can do the job anymore. If I _want_ to do the job."

Vance looked hard at him, but Tony didn't back down at all. Finally Vance nodded. "Okay. Your team won't be happy. And I can't guarantee that I'll be able to keep them all together while I wait for you to make up your mind."

"They need to do what's best for them," Tony said. "I'll talk to them."

And Tony did. He invited them all over and told them all at once. Abby was understandably upset by the news. Tim looked like he expected it. Ziva was quiet. Ducky nodded approvingly, though he looked saddened that the team would not ever be what it once was. They had all known that Gibbs would not be able to return, but to lose Tony too… It was not an easy thing for any of them.

One by one, Tony and Gibbs each took them aside through the evening and talked to them individually. What they said was basically the same thing: you have to do what is right for you.

Two weeks later the boat was finished and Tony watched as Gibbs painted the name on the aft. Caitlyn. Tony's eyes were teary when he saw the name there. He'd thought it might be another Kelly, but this boat was built for both of their pain.

"We should take her out," Tony said when Gibbs sat back to watch the paint dry.

"Where ya want to go?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shrugged. "South. Somewhere warm." It was the end of February and winter seemed like it would never end.

"Okay," Gibbs agreed easily.

It took a few days to get everything ready. Gibbs worked on getting the boat into the water while Tony gathered the supplies that they would need. He had a long list that Gibbs had made up for him and added one or two extra items of his own. Tony let the team know that they would be sailing and Abby and Ducky agreed to keep an eye on the house.

When Tony and Gibbs began loading their supplies onto the boat, Tony couldn't help but be impressed by the quality of the work that Gibbs did. He had seen him work on that boat for years, but, he had not been inside since Gibbs had begun finishing it.

Inside, there was a bunk fitted into the bow of the boat, about the size of a double bed. It butted up against a small storage compartment where the boat was too narrow to accommodate a person. Next to the bed was a small table just large enough for two. One person would have to sit on the bunk, but there was a built in bench for the other person. The galley was a small kitchen unit with a single burner propane stove, a small sink and a large cooler that could keep food cold for up to five days. Across from the galley was the head. It was about the size of a closet, but it had a toilet, a tiny sink, and the entire room became the shower when the water was running.

Topside, there were two built in benches along the port and starboard sides and a retractable table could be set up between them. The helm was to the left of the cabin hatch and had state of the art navigational equipment and controls for the engine and rudder.

The thing that Tony loved best was finding all of the hidden storage compartments. Under all of the seating in the cabin and topside, under the bed, under the deck… there were places to hide everything. They stowed all their non-perishable food and supplies, put their clothes into the drawers under the bed, and put any other gear away where it would be easily accessed when needed. Then Gibbs gave Tony a brief lesson on how to run the boat. Tony had done some sailing when he was younger and picked most of that up quickly. What was new to him was filling the fresh water tanks and working the marine head with macerator pump, or working the bilge pump.

They went home as the sun was setting, prepared to make an early start the next morning. Of course, early for Gibbs meant long before the sun was up. Tony was bleary eyed as he helped carry the perishable food supplies and the last few personal items to the car. Gibbs, sipping his fourth cup of coffee, seemed entirely too bright and cheerful for Tony's taste. They drove to the marina in near silence.

Tony shouldn't have been surprised to find that the rest of their team was there waiting to send them off. Abby even had a bottle of champagne.

"It's to christen the boat," she told them.

"You are not hitting this boat with that bottle," Gibbs told her sternly.

Instead, they opened the bottle and drank a toast to their adventure. As the sun began to creep over the horizon, Gibbs called a halt to the festivities and put Tony to work. The ropes tying them to the dock were loosened and Gibbs started the engine to guide them away from their waving friends. In minutes they were out of sight and making their way down the Charles River towards the Chesapeake Bay.

**GDGDGDGDGD**

It was cold out on the water, but as they moved south along the coast, Tony was able to shed his coat and enjoy the unseasonably warm sun. As soon they reached the less crowded waters of Occoquan Bay, Gibbs and Tony worked together to get the sails up and shut down the engines. Tony let Gibbs keep the helm while they navigated the shoreline. Instead, he spent most of that first day just watching and thinking.

They put down anchor before they reached the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Tony heated cans of stew for their dinner and Gibbs pulled out a couple beers from the cooler. The sun set early and the two were left to eat in the dim light of a lantern. The boat had a battery charged by the engines, but it wasn't big enough to keep lights going for long periods of time. They could plug in when they were at a marina, but out on the water, Gibbs preferred not to waste their electricity.

Because the temperature dropped as soon as the sun set, the two men ate in the cabin with the hatch tightly closed. Gibbs and Tony did the dishes together and then settled back down at the table.

"Cards?" Tony asked.

Gibbs smirked. "Only if you're prepared to lose."

Tony grinned. "I'll have you know I'm a shark at Old Maid."

Gibbs let out a loud laugh then. Tony's smile was wide. This was good. This was easy and comfortable. Gibbs was happier than Tony had ever seen him and Tony was too. This was definitely the right thing to do for both of them.

When they bunked for the night, neither of them was at all concerned with the tight quarters or sharing a bed.

**GDGDGDGDGD**

They sailed along the Outer Banks for the next day and anchored near Ocracoke Island. The next day, on the open waters of the Atlantic and with good winds, they made it all the way to Charleston, where Gibbs guided them into a marina. Tony convinced Gibbs to spend a day there, and so they headed out from the marina to explore the historic old city. They had dinner at a relatively nice waterfront restaurant before refreshing their stores and heading out at sunrise the next morning.

From Charleston, it was only a day's journey on open waters to St. Augustine. They anchored off the coast once again, taking advantage of the good weather, before heading to Freeport, Bahamas. They docked in a marina and spent a couple days there enjoying the warmth of the Caribbean sun.

Nassau was their next port of call. Tony loved the straw market and convinced Gibbs that they should spend a night on Paradise Island at one of the resorts. It was their first opportunity for a real shower in a week and both men were more than ready for the luxury. They went to the casino that night and Tony actually won enough to pay for not only their stay on the island, but the rest of their trip and then some.

"I told you I was good at Old Maid," Tony said with a smirk as they walked back to their room that night.

Gibbs snorted. "That was roulette. Not even a card game."

"27 was always my lucky number," Tony grinned. "And 31." Tony had placed $100 on 27 and won $3,500. He put all of his winnings on 31 and, sure enough, won again. He won $122,500. When Gibbs glared at him, Tony had pocketed most of those chips and put $5,000 down on the line between 0 and 00. The payout for that was $85,000, so they walked out of the casino that night more than $200,000 richer. It was a serious fluke—no one gets three spins in a row—but one that Tony was ecstatic about, even if the casino manager was glaring at them.

"Why those numbers?" Gibbs asked. "You once said people choose numbers that are important to them."

"31 because we actually met on the 31st of May," Tony said quietly. "It was a very lucky day for me."

Gibbs cleared his throat, obviously affected by that admission. "And 27?"

"February 27th was the day we left on this little adventure," Tony said. "Very auspicious."

"True," Gibbs said. "So, where do we head next? Turks and Caicos? Haiti? Cuba?"

"How about head west toward the Keys and then on to Mexico?" Tony said. "Then we can head south and circle back up to Puerto Rico."

**GDGDGDGDGD**

"So, have you come to any decisions about anything?" Gibbs asked as he watched Tony guide the boat through the Gulf of Mexico a few days later. Tony was learning how to navigate and was actually pretty good.

Tony sighed. "I have and I haven't. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'm done with NCIS. I'm so tired of having people shoot at me and watching the people I care about in danger all the time. I once thought that I could be a cop and still have a relationship, but I know that I can't now. Some people can, but I don't think I'm one of them. I get too caught up in everything."

Gibbs was quiet for a minute before asking, "So you want to find a girl and get married? Have kids and the whole thing?"

Tony huffed a wry laugh. "Not exactly." Gibbs gave him a look that was easy to interpret and Tony sighed. "I'm not good with kids and… I don't… Shit."

"Spit it out, Tony," Gibbs said with amusement. "I'm the one with speech problems."

Tony huffed again. "Fine, I'm not sure that it's a girl I want to marry."

"Not sure?" Gibbs pressed.

Tony growled. "Fine, I know it isn't a girl I want. I'm bi, always have been, but I lean more towards guys the older I get. There, are you happy?"

Gibbs blinked. "Possibly."

Tony, fully worked up now, was ready to snap. "What the hell does that mean?"

Gibbs didn't bother to answer with words. He put the boat on autopilot and pulled Tony into his arms. The moment before their lips met, their gazes locked and Tony could see everything he had ever wanted in the depths of Gibbs' blue eyes. With a groan, Tony let Gibbs claim him.

When they broke apart, Tony groaned. "How long before we reach Cancun?"

**GDGDGDGDGD**

"I still can't believe you packed lube," Gibbs chuckled as he steered the boat into the marina in Cancun.

"I believe in being prepared," Tony said haughtily.

"This from the same guy who forgot to pack sunscreen," Gibbs said.

"I didn't hear you complaining a few hours ago," Tony said.

Gibbs tried to wipe the grin off his face but failed. "I am glad you thought ahead."

"Thank you," Tony huffed. He looked out at the lights of Cancun they could see from the marina. "I don't think I want to stay here long."

"Why not?" Gibbs asked. "You always talked about Cancun like it was the best place in the world."

Tony shrugged. "It was great when I was in college. It was even fun that time me and the frat brothers came back a few years ago. But it's pretty much just a party place. I don't need that anymore. The only time I go out to clubs anymore is when Abby drags me. I haven't really been into partying for a few years. Since Kate was killed, really."

Gibbs nodded. "I know. So we'll spend one night here and head for the Cayman Islands tomorrow. Maybe spend a couple days there, then on to Jamaica. We can go to the Dominican Republic after that and then on to Puerto Rico."

"Sounds like a plan," Tony said. "I want to see Ponce and then sail around the island to San Juan."

"Then we can head back up to Turks and Caicos on our way back to the states," Gibbs said. "I'll chart out our course tonight."

**GDGDGDGDGD**

Tony was writing in his journal again. He had bought it at a small gift shop in Charleston and had written in it every day since. Gibbs was manning the helm as they made their way towards the Florida coast. They had stopped in Nassau again on the way back from Turks and Caicos to restock their supplies but were now truly on their way back to the life they had left behind. They had been gone for more than two months. Once they had reached Ponce, Tony had seen how close they were to the Virgin Islands, which had led to them exploring all of the islands that stood in a line down to Trinidad and Tobago.

The past three months had been the happiest in Tony's life. He was free of all obligations and all expectations. Plus he and Gibbs were exploring this newfound aspect of their relationship. Tony had wanted to be with Gibbs for as long as he could remember, but he had never believed that the other man could want the same thing.

Over beers in St. Lucia, he had learned that Gibbs had taken a while to understand that what he felt for Tony wasn't purely platonic. In fact, hadn't been until Tony had been sent to serve as agent afloat that he recognized that he was in love with Tony and it wasn't until they went to save Ziva and Gibbs had been forced to watch as Tony had been tortured that he had accepted those feelings. But like Tony, he had not believed that Tony could ever reciprocate his love. And so they had each tried to make the most of the friendship they believed to be the only thing they could ever have.

Now, there was a world of possibilities in front of them. They no longer had to fear for their lives on a daily basis. They had each other and Tony already lived with Gibbs. The only real question that remained was what Tony would do with his life when they got back to civilization. He had a few ideas, but he wasn't sure any of them were practical.

Gibbs looked over at Tony again. He had stopped writing and had been staring out at the sea for almost half an hour now. "Wanna share?"

Tony smiled at his lover. "Just thinking about what I'm going to do once I give in my resignation. I can't exactly retire at 42. I'd go crazy, even if I could afford it."

" _We_ can afford it," Gibbs said. "The house is paid off and we'll have my pension and both of our investment incomes. If you want to work, then work, but you don't have to rush to find something just to pay the bills. Figure out what you want to do and then figure out how to do it."

"I think I might know," Tony said. "One of my old frat brothers is the editor for a rather prestigious men's magazine. He's been trying to get me to write reviews for movies for a few years. He's been trying to find someone who isn't exactly like every other pretentious movie critic and he thinks I could do a great job of it. I thought about doing it in my free time, but I never really had enough free time to actually do it."

"So you'd watch movies and write about them," Gibbs said. "Sounds right up your alley."

"I emailed him when we were still in DC," Tony said. "He said he would give me the job as soon as I say the word. I'd write about all the new movies being released each month, but I'd also get to make recommendations on older movies that I think people should see. The reviews would be posted online and in the printed edition of the magazine."

Gibbs smiled at Tony. "If this is what you want to do, then do it."

"Yeah," Tony said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think I will."


	4. Part Four

 

 

 

**Part Four**

Though Tony had kept in touch with Abby and the rest of the team by weekly email while they traveled, he hadn't let anyone know when they would be arriving back in DC. So they pulled up to an empty dock and went through the now familiar routine of tying the boat and making sure everything was locked up. They would come back the next day to unload everything. Tony only carried the bags of gifts and his duffle to the waiting cab.

Once back at the house, Gibbs turned to him. "You happy to be back?"

Tony shrugged as he tossed all of the clothes in his bag into the dirty clothes hamper in Gibbs'—now their—bedroom. "Yes and no. I'm kind of excited to be able to get started with the new job and everything, but I'm also… nervous about how things are going to play out."

Gibbs, who had been sorting through his own duffle, stopped and pulled Tony into his arms. "You mean the job or us?"

"Both," Tony sighed, reveling in the feel of his lover's strong arms around him. "The job… well it will play out. It's a risk doing something so completely different than what I've always done, but it will either work or it won't. But us… I can't… we _have_ to work. I can't give this up now that I've had it. I just don't know _how_ it's going to work."

"We'll take it one day at a time," Gibbs said. "Don't think I'm not just as _nervous_ about this. But I know that we can get through all the stuff that's ahead. We make a good team, on the field or off."

Tony grinned. "We do, don't we."

Gibbs smirked. "Tomorrow, we'll move all your stuff in here. For now, we should probably enjoy our final night of freedom. Knowing Abby, she's been keeping an eye out for our cell phones to go active again so she'll be here the minute either of us show's up on the GPS."

"Good point," Tony said. "Maybe we should just call her and get it over with."

"Nope," Gibbs said as he stepped closer to the bed, pulling Tony with him. "I'm taking advantage of our last night of privacy, so I suggest you keep your phone turned off."

There was a knock at the front door and Tony shot Gibbs a rueful smile. "Too late. I used it to call the cab at the marina."

Gibbs rolled his eyes but allowed Tony to slip from his arms. He followed his lover down the stairs to the front door. Abby was, of course standing with her fist raised to knock again. But behind her, Tim, Ziva, Ducky and Palmer were all gathered.

"Welcome home!" Abby gushed and pulled Tony into a tight hug. Then she went after Gibbs, who hugged her in return.

Tony greeted the others and soon everyone was crowding into their small living room. Abby, who had decided to sit on Tony's lap, was eager to hear everything about their trip.

"You both look so tan!" Abby gushed.

"That's what spending every day in the sun will do," Tony chuckled.

"Of course these tans started out a bit redder," Gibbs said with wry amusement.

Tony looked chagrinned. "Yeah well, who thinks about sunscreen in February?"

"Anyone who is going to the Caribbean on vacation," Ziva said dryly.

Ducky tisked. "You really must take better precautions or you will end up with skin cancer."

Tony decided to distract everyone from the subject at hand by offering to get the souvenirs they had bought for each member of the team. With each gift distributed, there was a story about which island they were visiting and what they had been doing at the time. Everyone loved the story about the casino win.

Eventually, Tony asked, "So what's been going on at NCIS?"

"We've were in a holding pattern for a while," Tim admitted. "Vance didn't want to give the MCRT to anyone else until he knew for sure what you decided, so Ziva and I have been on loan to other teams."

"I have been offered the SFA position on MCRT," Ziva said. "If you do not take the lead, then Vance has arranged to bring in Carry Gentry. She has been heading up the NCIS office in Miami."

"I've heard good things about her," Gibbs said with approval.

"But why not McProbie for SFA?" Tony asked.

"Because just this week I finally accepted Vance's offer to head up Cybercrimes," Tim said. "I'll be working to not only solve crimes, but I'll be working with a contract company to improve our overall systems agency wide so that our agents don't have to have a degree in computer science to do what Abby and I do for the team."

"Congratulations," Tony said. "That's really great."

Gibbs nodded. "Good work, McGee."

"So?" Abby demanded impatiently and hit Tony in the shoulder. "I've been waiting for months to know what you're going to do!"

Tony opened and then closed his mouth. Then he placed a gentle kiss on Abby's cheek. "I'm not coming back."

Abby seemed to deflate right before their eyes as she curled up against Tony. "You can't really leave."

"It's time," Tony said. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. You'll still see me all the time and we'll have movie dates just like always. In fact, we'll have even more movie dates."

Abby sat up a little. "Why is that?"

And so Tony explained about the job his friend had offered and everyone seemed to think it would be a great fit for him.

"The thing is, I'm just so tired," Tony said. "I loved working with you guys, or I never would have stayed as long as I did. But I'm ready for some peace and quiet."

There was a general hum of acceptance, but no one seemed to really understand. Tony looked up at Gibbs and he nodded. Well, at least one person seemed to get it.

 

**GDGDGDGDGD**

Tony handed in his resignation two days later and then went directly from the Navy Yard to a screening of the first film he was going to review. Scheduled to be released in a couple weeks, Tony was rather excited that he was getting to see it first. It was a film he had been waiting to see for a few months. Armed with a notepad and snacks, Tony sat down to enjoy his new job.

"So how was it?" Gibbs asked when Tony took his usual seat on the stairs to the basement later that afternoon.

Tony shrugged. "It had some great special effects and stunts, but the story and acting left a lot to be desired. I got some good notes to put into the review, though. I'm already thinking about what to write."

"So why are you down here instead of writing?" Gibbs wondered.

"Just missed you today," Tony admitted. "We've been together every day for a while now. It felt weird not having you with me."

Gibbs nodded. He was working on a new dining room table since the old one currently was being held up by an old saw horse since two of the legs had broken beyond repair a while back. "Been thinking. Maybe I'll go to some of those movies with you. Not all of them, but maybe some."

Tony grinned. "That's a great idea. I'll let you know which ones I think you would like."

Gibbs nodded. "Also been thinking about selling some of the stuff I make. What do you think?"

Tony looked shocked. He had never considered that Gibbs might sell anything he made. "I think a lot of people would love to buy it. You're very good. But I never thought you'd want to sell."

Gibbs shrugged. "Gotta do something to keep busy and there's only so much we need for the house. And only so many friends to make things for. Already got a boat."

Tony nodded. "In that case, I think it's a great idea."

Tony really did think it was a good idea. No matter how happy the two of them were to finally be together, Gibbs was still facing a rather hard transition. Leaving NCIS, and not by choice, was not easy for the other man. Before their trip, Gibbs had been so focused on getting better that he didn't have the time or energy to think about how drastically his life was changing. And on the sailboat, it was easy to forget that the rest of the world existed. But now… Tony worried that Gibbs would grow restless or bored or resentful. Building things would help keep Gibbs occupied and feeling useful. It would have been beneficial, even if he only made things for the house, but Tony felt that sharing Gibbs talent with the world would do a lot for boosting Gibbs' self-worth.

"I have a friend," Tony said, knowing his lover well enough to keep his thoughts to himself. "He's in marketing. I think if we invited him and his wife for dinner, we could pick his brain for ideas about how to go about selling what you make."

 

**GDGDGDGDGD**

_Five Years Later_

Tony watched through the car's windshield as Gibbs helped load the last piece from a bedroom set onto the delivery truck. It had taken some time to build up a clientele, but after five years, Gibbs' Handcrafted Furniture was really taking off. He had custom orders lined up for the next year and four full-time employees, two of which were apprentices learning to do things Gibbs' way: by hand.

The past years hadn't been easy for either man as they had adapted to a much slower pace of life. In truth, Tony had experienced more guilt and restlessness upon their return from that fateful trip than Gibbs had. He had known he didn't want to be in the field any longer, but the reality of it was more difficult than he had imagined. More than once, he had second-guessed his decision. And working only a few hours a week exacerbated the problem. He had too much time on his hands.

Gibbs didn't have the same problem. His retirement was forced due to his physical limitations and there was nothing to do but accept that. Once he had, things had fallen into place for the older man. The new business helped, as had his temporary retirement a few years back.

In the end, Tony had found other outlets for his restlessness. He had taken up coaching peewee football and spent time volunteering for the local community center. He also took a more hands on approach to their finances and had more than doubled their investments over the past few years. Now, they could easily live on their dividends if they ever tired of working.

The best part about their new life was the fact that they could make time to get away. Every winter for the past five years, they had packed up the boat and sailed off for a month. Gibbs arranged his orders around that month and Tony's contract with the magazine had that time off written in. It was a non-negotiable point for both of them. That time away helped them to recharge and face the rest of the year. They took vacation at other times, but it was that month on the boat that really got them through.

It had helped them get past the first real hiccup in their relationship. Almost two years into their relationship, they had reached a point where they were just not connecting. Tony was really busy with his other projects and Gibbs had taken on a new apprentice and they just weren't getting any time alone together. The insecurities and misunderstandings that resulted were almost enough to tear them apart.

Tony had almost put off the trip, but was really glad now that he hadn't. When the two of them finally got out onto the open water, it gave them a chance to really reconnect. They talked a lot on that trip about what had been bothering each of them. They also talked about what they wanted for their future, something they hadn't really discussed before. By the time they got back, their relationship was stronger than ever.

"Hurry up or we're going to be late," Tony called out through the car's window.

Gibbs huffed at his partner, but finished what he was doing and, after giving James a few more instructions, walked over to the car and climbed inside. "We won't be late."

"You still have to shower and change," Tony reminded him. "As much as I enjoy the smell of sawdust, I'd rather not have you smelling that way on our wedding day. I still can't believe you went to work today."

Gibbs shrugged. "Had to be done if we're going to be gone for our honeymoon for two months."

Tony grinned. "This trip is going to be fantastic."

"You're more excited about the honeymoon than the wedding," Gibbs accused as Tony pulled the car out into traffic.

"Maybe," Tony said. "I'm glad we decided to keep the wedding simple. Just close friends and family and a civil ceremony at the house."

"Don't forget the cookout," Gibbs said.

"And then sailing off tomorrow morning," Tony sighed.

"You got all the supplies ready?" Gibbs asked.

"I double checked the list," Tony said. "And I made sure that there was sunscreen."

"I don't have to ask if you got enough lube," Gibbs said wryly.

"I'm always prepared for the important things," Tony agreed with a leer.

They were quiet for the rest of trip to the house. It wasn't until they were pulling into the driveway that Tony spoke again.

"You know how much I love you," Tony said earnestly.

Gibbs smiled softly at his partner-and soon to be husband. "I know."

"Never would have thought we'd end up here," Tony admitted. "When you got hurt..."

"I can't say that I'm happy about getting hurt," Gibbs said. "Or with the permanent damage that it caused. But it led to us here, so in a way I'm grateful."

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "Me too."

Gibbs pulled Tony over for a kiss that lasted longer than it probably should with them sitting in the car in their driveway. When they pulled apart, Gibbs smirked at Tony. "Come on, DiNozzo. Let's go get hitched."

Tony grinned. "On your six, Boss."

**The End**


End file.
